


dissonant

by thedarknesswithin (babylxxrry)



Series: drabbles [7]
Category: Pentatonix, Superfruit
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Character Study, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-23 02:51:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10710639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babylxxrry/pseuds/thedarknesswithin
Summary: he can feel it slipping through his fingers.





	dissonant

**Author's Note:**

> hi hello i'm back with something that's not i10 i'm sorry i can't fluff atm idk why BUT here you should cry.
> 
> (hint: listen to spaces by 1d while you read for full effect)

Mitch hates dwelling on it, hates the thought of it, just hates it. All of it.

He doesn’t hate a lot of things, and the first person to come to mind that can attest to that is Scott.

There’s his problem.

He and Scott are drifting, slowly but surely, and Mitch doesn’t know how to deal with it. Sure, they’ve had rough patches here and there- a fifteen year friendship is bound to have those, but recently, it’s gotten worse. It’s not a fast worse, though, it’s more of a slow, agonizing stretch that drops one thing at a time. Scott started missing Monday’s wine nights because of editing sessions or other things that came up. Mitch was the one to put himself out of his own misery by cancelling the routine all together after three straight weeks of drinking alone and journaling instead of talking. That was the first thing. Next came random disappearances, often overnight, with only a “i’ll be back tomorrow morning!” followed by a string of smiley emojis. Mitch had taken those figurative (but just as painful) slaps to the face with a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

It’s okay, though. If Scott’s happy, it’s okay.

Drifting apart is normal, isn’t it? They both need their space, and Mitch knows Scott’s always looking for new experiences to try, new people to talk to, new things to read, new things to listen to, just new things as a general concept. Mitch loves all of that, too, or else he wouldn’t be doing what he is, but he keeps it on the periphery, trying to keep a tighter, more stable group of people close to him as his support system.

Scott’s always been part of that group, ever since they were ten and Scott was the little social butterfly of the playground with Mitch tagging along, the quieter, shyer one.

It just feels like Scott’s slowly pulling out of that group, and it scares Mitch. It scares him that such a massive part of his life is breaking off. It scares him that his best friend is quickly finding other best friends, Shawn and Lindsey and everyone else. He knows Scott can have more than one best friend, but it scares him nonetheless. It scares him that he’s losing his everything, his sunshine when it’s dark, his home when he’s lonely.

Mitch hates the paradox that is the concept of Home right now. His Home is Scott, always has been. That’s who he turns to when he’s scared, when he’s anxious, when he needs someone to listen to him. He’s all of those things, but when the cause of it is Scott, he doesn’t know what to do. He can’t exactly run Home when that’s what’s upsetting him.

It’s not even the loving part.

It’s not even the fact that Scott doesn’t love him like that. They’ve talked about it, agreed that they’re going to keep it friends-only to preserve that relationship. Oh, the irony.

It’s just that Mitch doesn’t want to lose Scott altogether.

It’s just that Mitch can feel Scott slipping away. In Pentatonix, they’re still okay, still get along just fine, still love each other. In Superfruit, Mitch puts on his best act, and it works, to some extent. It’s off the camera that they’re not okay. It’s off the camera that there’s an odd tension that’s so uncharacteristic of them. They don’t read each other instantly, the way they used to. They’re not as in synch, talking over each other on the ends of sentences instead of bouncing back and forth like they could, like they used to.

The only thing that’s still the same is their awareness of each other, solidified through years and years of being attached at the hip. Mitch can still pick up when Scott drops into his mind, when it’s safe to let him mull and when it’s gone too far and he’s beating up on himself instead of trying to correct it. Scott can still pick up on when Mitch needs someone to coach him through breaths that get too short and when he just needs to be held in quietness.

It hurts, how physically and emotionally they’re drifting but muscle memory and practice refuses to let go of the awareness.

Mitch wishes he wasn’t aware of the space between them, wishes he could keep on going like Scott is. He doesn’t think Scott’s _un_ aware, per se, it’s just that Scott looks like he’s okay with it, he’s dealing with it better than Mitch is, and Mitch wishes he could do that.

He tries.

He throws himself into his other friends, giving them his all and more, throws himself into his music, writes pages after pages of lyrics that will never be used because they mean too much, throws himself into everything but Scott. Maybe that’s why they’re such a mess. Maybe it’s his fault. He’s not interesting, craves routine, consistent wake-up times and sleep times, days scheduled to within an hour (because in his life, change is inevitable. He has to allow at least an hour for it even if he doesn’t want to.) After fifteen years, that’s got to get tiring for someone like Scott, someone who loves new things, new people, new activities.

Mitch doesn’t really blame Scott for wanting something different.

He’ll be okay, waiting here in quiet pain until he loses Scott.

He’ll be okay then, too.

He’s never been a particularly good liar. Scott can attest to that.

He’s just had a lot of practice lying to himself in this context.

 

 

- _fin._

**Author's Note:**

> leave a comment or kudos if you actually hate me a lot


End file.
